It is a brave act of valor to condemn death, but where life is more terrible than death it is then the truest valor to dare to live.
quote by Thomas Browne

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Where life is more terrible than death, it is then the truest valor to dare to live.
quote by Thomas Browne

Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Where life is more terrible than death, it is then the truest valor to dare to live.
quote by Thomas Browne

Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Songs of Battle
Old as the world--no other things so old;
Nay, older than the world, else, how had sprung
Such lusty strength in them when earth was young?--
Stand valor and its passion hot and bold,
Insatiate of battle. How, else, told
Blind men, born blind, that red was fitting tongue
Mute, eloquent, to show how trumpets rung
When armies charged adn battle-flags unfurled?
Who sings of valor speaks for life, for death,
Beyond all death, and long as life is life,
in rippled waves the eternal air hs breath
Eternal bears to stir all noble strife.
Dead Homer from his lost and vanished grave
Keeps battle glorious still and soldiers brave.
poem by Helen Hunt Jackson

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Disingenuousness
Here lies another box for nature,
Carbon ready;
Black to eyes down here,
Where death is at its job.
Up there you’ll hear a rhythmic sob
Or two from living yet-to-dies –
A humming lacrimoso –
It all but cleans the eyes:
Forget it –
The dismal show of grief –
Life is only chemistry –
Our stay is only brief.
It’s we who hype it up!
Diaphragms jerk again;
The jet monotone of hearses
Feeds the disingenuousness
Of undertakers –
They seem to stare at something up ahead –
For them, it’s in the blood,
To taxi off the dead.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
The March of Death
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poem by Mark R Slaughter

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It's Death Again
It's Death again - He's always there -
Watching, waiting - e'er the stare!
Every time I look behind
Or reach to pull the window blind,
I catch a glimpse of grubby hood -
A little clue to where he stood;
The glint of light that caught the scythe.
Perhaps if I could pay a tithe…
But O! no use, he'll never go.
The adamant phantom; don't you know
He will but wait until it's time
For me to hear His fateful chime? -
The toll that claims my destiny,
To Hail: 'You're next, it has to be…'
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
The Reign of Death
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poem by Mark R Slaughter

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Warriors
The soul speaks from a warrior's spirit
Chants of war, execution of arts
In gruesome battle, one fears it
Death is when war starts
Agony cries god is pain
Brutality lords the field
Innocence killed hearts slain
Other hearts to ferocity yield
Strange calm, war mediation
Prayers to the brave
Tears in formation
Bodies march to the grave
Acts remembered, bodies burn
Ancient drum rolls
Human valor they earn
The valor of dead souls!
Archangels of war's path
Passion engulfs nature's law
The heart of war's wrath
The most dangerous organ man saw
Fight, fight, fight
Violence man's only right
Kill, kill, kill
The enemy and blood shall spill
Into earth's soil
Man's real home
Man's bloody ego
To live in loam
With souls dead long ago
Total war
What man's malice is for
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy

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Death, Inevitable Death
Death, inevitable Death.
So now You come to show Your world,
Hence the blackened cloak – unfurled.
And peering down upon my form
– Bereft of pity – Your eyes of storm.
Death, inexorable Death.
‘When? ’ The only question out of Thee.
My dream retorts 'But ne’er for me! ’
But now awake, I bid you so –
My giving tears cry ‘Where to go? ’
Death, adamant Death.
You cast Your spell and guide me 'way,
For life and I have had our day.
And what of me? I prey You, tell!
Be glorious in Heaven or gnarled in Hell?
Death, ineluctable Death.
Oh wiry ghoul, I'm here to follow –
I leave my body grey and shallow.
‘Come! ’ You bid in thund’ring tones,
‘Beg farewell to shattered bones.’
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
Death
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poem by Mark R Slaughter

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Valor
The dictionary describes 'Valor' as:
Qualities of a hero or heroine;
Exceptional courage when facing danger;
Facing the unknown with boldness and gallentry.
But, gallentry comes in many different forms.
I have seen valor on the battlefront as soldiers
Disembark from boat to beach.
I have read of those who gave their lives
To save their buddies from the wrath of war.
Yet, there is another valor, a silent valor,
Shown on the faces of those who, though not
In physcial combat, soldier against soldier,
Have just as much a life threatining struggle.
There is no noise, clash of weapons,
Shield against shield, or screams of pain,
Just silence, cold, weary silence;
Battle fatigue, as shown by the posture of
Those who return from the front;
Veterans of that silent war of personal combat.
Wave after wave of seasoned combatants pass me by
As I, a new inductee with them, wage our own
Personal battle against our common enemy,
Cancer.
(Free Verse)
poem by Lynn W. Petty

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Death and I
When death comes
I’ll need not love –
Consumed,
No wreath or dove
Could offer me salvation,
Not when I’m no more.
A weathered stone will bear my name –
Identity of once a being
Living out existence in
A world of risk, and never seeing
Sense of why we’re here.
My genes will die away thro’ child –
Hue of eyes and hair, the way of thought,
Will quickly dim with generation –
Bow to future dominance –
Memories of provenance
Resigned to curious few.
When death comes
I’ll need not grace
Below; no grieving face
Will call my resurrection,
Not when I’m at ground –
Death and I so bound.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
D eath Crawl
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poem by Mark R Slaughter

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Fascination
Death fascinates;
Life can be cruel.
Death is my morbid but most-loved obsession.
Life is hard-
I am out of control.
Death is my relationship to reality-
Life is not fair.
Death is an entity of beauty, though
Life is strange…
Death is veracity, although it can be
The facet of my delusions-
I live my life while
Thoughts of death are so often invasive.
Death is mysterious, and
Life is a river refracting light-
Death is dark but intriguing.
Life is amazing.
Death in turn- is amazing as it can be.
I live my life in a dream world.
Death is indeed mysterious, although-
Life
Is
Stranger…
poem by Claudia Krizay

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Death - The Gift of Life
There’s nothing certain but death
Nor beyond nor before
We are born and live to die
Death the only gift of life
We fret; make noise, shout and cry
We skid from hills to valley and back
Get torn among home, work and friends
There’s nothing certain but death
Death the only gift of life
We fight, we scream, we spurn
We step on each others’ toe
All to achieve and amass
There’s nothing certain but death
Death the only gift of life
Walk we straight with pride
Look we people in the eye
Seldom do we stop and stoop
There’s nothing certain but death
Death the only gift of life
We make friends, yet sly
Break hearts and water eyes
Too proud to bend or mend
There’s nothing certain but death
Death the only gift of life
Each death promise another
Our last breath gives forth life
To another birth to die again
There’s nothing certain but death
Death the only gift of life
Never can we live past in life
In death we reach the very start
From grains we come, to grains we go
There’s nothing certain but death
Death the only gift of life
poem by Thomas PJ New Delhi

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A Fresh Endeavour
So now I've taken leave of life,
I thought you'd like to know, I still
Possess a mind in love, oh wife;
A soulful eye to catch a show of
Silent beauty – ever yours;
An ear to pick the metaphors
Of tonal dance in words you say,
Grasp a thought in verse you pray
Inside your head, bemused of mind,
Softly mournful, intertwined with
Understanding tears.
I'll drift a whisper o'er to you
To tell that I am quietly calm;
Keeping time till your adieu
To flesh, upon the carol of a
Psalm of consummation. Now!
A fresh endeavour – we're forever
One together, resting yonder,
Cross our open plane of blue.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
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poem by Mark R Slaughter

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Death of the life
Death is not to be laughed at,
Nor cried at,
Death it is strong,
But will give up,
Death is the soul,
To every living creature,
Death well be in every story,
As life goes on,
Death is more then what we can handle,
But we live to die,
Death well wait,
Till it is yours turn,
Death is now my nightmares,
And in your too,
Do not run from death,
For it well get you worst,
And
Death is forever,
And never.
poem by Anna Reeves

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Death is when....
Death is when my loved ones must depart
Death is a sharp pain in my heart
Death is this feeling of permanent sadness and pain
Death is when my loved ones have gone away
Death is the call to heaven or hell
Death is an eternal mansion or cell
Death is the lesson i need to learn about
Death is a loss, without a doubt
Death is this unhappy feeling i have
Death is pleasant on my behalf
Death is the day i end my life
Death is when i give up the fight
Death is happiness to the world around me
Death started when i gained my life
Death can be helped along with this knife
Death is where i shall go
Death is close, i kno
Death willl come fast
Death is vast
Death is what i see
Death lives inside of me
Death is joy to me
Death has come for me
Death is gonna take me
Death will stop my misery
Death loves my company
Death ends the pain
Death takes me on that train
Death is near
Death is finally here
Death is.....
Death is peaceful
Death is sharp pain in my heart
Death is feeling sadness
Death is deppresion
death is when my loved ones have gone away
Death is when i give up the fight
Death is when i cant think about whats right
Death is a good thing on my behalf
Death started when i gained life
Death is where ill go
Death is near
Death is what i see
Death lives inside of me
DEATH WILL STOP MY MISERY
poem by Angelique Paniagua

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Honorable retreats are no ways inferior to brave charges, as having less fortune, more of discipline, and as much valor.
William Napier in Peninsular War (1810)

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Few, The Brave
As proof of our remembrance, we lay a flag by each and every grave;
With perpetual solemnity, we ensure that it shall always wave
Under the free skies of the land that they and our forebears created:
For God, Duty and Country-they never hesitated
To serve with Honor and Valor for a higher purpose;
All gave some, and some gave all-all, in service
To a most grateful nation, which must always remember,
Whether on a Summer morn in May, or a blustery one in September:
If not for their bravery, indeed, their sacrifice, we'd not be free!
Surely, if I did not take time to pause, I'd not be me-
Because I stand under free skies, and make my very own choices
All because, even from hallowed graves, they provide us voices
In all we do, see, hear, touch, and feel.
No one may blind or mute us, and steal
This freedom away-we will fight as fiercely as they
Should any try-and would rather die than give it away.
This is how we need honor them, each and every day:
To live as they would have, in each and every way.
They did not die in vain, they perished as noble defenders
Of Liberty at all costs, in a world of raucous pretenders.
Their Valor was as uncommon as they were brave;
Due this Gallantry, Freedom and Democracy were saved
From the depths of tyranny, and totalitarian subjugation-
Not the cornerstones upon which to build a nation!
We, the 'many', need always appreciate 'the few, the brave':
Their sacrifice ensures that the flag shall always wave!
-Maurice Harris,29 May 2012
poem by Maurice Harris

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Set In The Ways
Set in the ways we recognise,
The ways of men are not condemned;
Do not harry me intentionally or frustratingly,
Harry me never in this world.
Set the standards of health and live beyond,
Beyond this life is another death,
Death shall appear and recognise you.
Harassing me is like giving a death to me,
So please understand the ways of slaughter
Before you harry my body and mind
For your very benefit.
Men are smoothly appearing before us
With women on their shoulders,
Children are hanging not harrying
So please do not condemn their appearance,
It is another death.
poem by Naveed Akram

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Punishment
There never really was a place of sanctity
For you, the mortal entity.
You thought you had prosperity,
The while you thrived and were.
Angels don't exist, you see.
You lived without a guarantee
Atop your brutal Earth.
Still, you had a birth.
And whither now, your crying whim -?
Answered by a tearing limb-?
Are you contrite; your valour slim?
And will He care...?
'Tis down to Him.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter,2009
Death has come, has death Death has come, has death
Death has come, has death Death has come, has death
Death has come, has death Death has come, has death
Death has come, has death Death has come, has death
Death has come, has death Death has come, has death
Death has come, has death Death has come, has death
poem by Mark R Slaughter

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Life Or Death
what is life without death
what is death without life
people comes from the big blue sky
people fly up high when they die
their familys start to cry
life is cold
to the bold
want to turn in to gold
but life is getting old
death is black
like a black cat
hard to know when death is coming
but death is coming
so live your life to the fullest
and to the goodest
cause soon death will knocking at your door
so you would just be laying in your death bed
with nothing to say
with one thing in your head
is this LIFE or DEATH
poem by Demarcus Walker

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